


Who Will Tell Me How It Ends?

by AnotherGallavichLove



Series: Prompts [75]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post 3x06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherGallavichLove/pseuds/AnotherGallavichLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt: In 3x06, Ian runs away and leaves Mickey with Terry. He beats the shit out of Mickey and then forcing him to abandon the house. Mickey becomes a dancer in a gay club and Mandy asks Ian to bring him back. Mickey gives Ian a private dance like that in 4x07 and Mickey behaves like Ian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Will Tell Me How It Ends?

**Author's Note:**

> I am completely exhausted so this is surely far from my best work, but I still wanted to have this up tonight. Also, I went back and forth, wondering whether I should just delete this without writing it and move on to the next one instead, mostly because Ian wouldn't leave Mickey in the violent hands of Terry, only Ean would do that. However, here it is anyway. I hope I made him seem like somewhat less of an asshole than Ean is.

The flashing lights and pounding music seemed to give Ian a headache as soon as he stepped foot inside of the crowded club. Then again, maybe it had been there for months.

 

You see, when Mickey’s asshole father had first caught him and Ian fucking, they had both been terrified, of course. Ian had managed to escape, and maybe it was because of all the stress or the adrenaline rush that he had gotten that morning, but either way, he still couldn’t quite remember how that had happened.

 

All he was aware of was that he had gotten out of the house, fully intending to get help but for some reason, his feet had carried him further away instead. Away from that house. Away from the south side. Away from Chicago. The past six months he had spent in Iowa, living day by day, every single second eating at him because he had left his love like that. All but for dead.

 

However, last week he had gone back home to visit his siblings. He had talked to them over the phone a few times, so they weren’t too worried or shocked when they saw his face again. It had been a sentimental hello, but what had bothered him more was Mandy.

 

His best friend had knocked on the Gallagher door, screaming at him. Telling Ian all the terrible things that he had known all along. She had reminded him over and over again, in a million different wordings what a motherfucking piece of shit he was. When she was done, she had told him everything.

 

About how Terry had kicked Mickey out of the house, how she had no fucking idea where he was now. How she would never ever forgive Ian if he didn’t help her find her brother. He knew that he wouldn’t forgive himself all the same.

 

So here he was, two days later. In the dark, heavy gay club where apparently Mickey worked now. His throat clogged up at the mere idea that this was who his sexy, grumpy thug was these days. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, not at all.

 

It took Ian almost fifteen minutes of checking every corner of the place before he finally spotted him. Mickey was dressed in nothing but a pair of black booty shorts, his hair all messed up - and not in a cute way, but in a _I’m-too-fucked-out-of-my-mind-to-take-care-of-myself_ way. Ian’s throat swelled up even more as he stood a few meters away, watching Mickey grind on some old man, rolling his hips for the doe.

 

“Hey” Ian hadn’t even noticed that he had started walking until he was right in front of them, alas, there was nothing he could do about it now. He knew what he had to do, things couldn’t continue like this. Not for Mickey, not for himself, not for anybody. And right now - judging by the fact that he could make out the dark circles under Mickey’s eyes even in this dim lightning - he was the only one who wasn’t too tweaked out to do anything about it. “Get out of here” Ian nodded his head to the customer, who threw him a look, but got up anyway.

 

“What the fuck, man?” Mickey cursed, puffing his chest out, fixing Ian with a harsh stare. Ian noted with a frown that his body was a lot thinner than it had been six months ago. “What do you want? I have work to do” Ian snorted.

 

“This is work? Are you kidding me, you - “ Ian cut himself off with a deep breath, realizing that if he wanted to get anywhere, he couldn’t yell, it would do no good and it never had. “Look, Mandy’s worried about you, Mick. Alright?” Ian informed Mickey as the blue eyes wandered around the club, focusing on anything an everything but the green pair. “So am I” Ian added after a hesitating beat.

 

Mickey snorted, finally making eye contact.

 

“I gotta keep working”

 

“No” Ian almost barked, grabbing a hold of Mickey’s arm as he attempted to walk past him. Mickey stopped, their eyes connecting again. Though, somehow, Ian felt as if the man was looking straight through him, and it made a terrible chill run down his spine. “Look, Mick - “

 

“You don’t want a dance, man, I gotta move on” Mickey cut off Ian’s soft, pleading voice. Ian was still for a second before he fished twenty five dollars out of his back pocket - the usual charge for lap dance at a club like this. Mickey accepted it, and then pushed Ian down onto one of the couches.

 

  
In another scenario, the chance that Ian would have been incredibly turned on by Mickey dancing for him was huge. Fuck if he hadn’t thought about it before. But not like this. Mickey wasn’t Mickey now. Mickey was sad, and on all kinds of drugs if Ian were to guess. It wasn’t hot, all this dance did was fill Ian with even more dread, more sadness and confusion about how they both possibly could have ended up this way after all they had been through together.

 

“Look, you need to go home” Ian attempted to speak. Mickey didn’t say anything, he just had his back pressed against Ian’s chest, grinding downwards onto his bulge, but Ian’s body didn’t even respond subconsciously. “Mandy’s worried about you… I’m worried about you, fuck, Mick. Just let me take you home” Ian sighed loudly.

 

“The fuck’s in it for me?” Mickey asked, turning around, their faces ending up very close together. “Fuck if pops is gonna let me into the house again, I’m better here”

 

“You’re not fucking bet-“ Ian was cut off by Mickey standing up, looking down at him.

 

“Song’s over. See you around, Gallagher” Ian sighed, leaning back, deciding he’d try again in a few minutes, figure out something better to say, something more convincing. However, as Mickey started making his way over the floor, he stumbled a couple of times, looking too exhausted to keep on his feet.

 

Ian frowned, his reflexes kicking in, and before he knew it, he was by Mickey’s side, steadying him.

 

“Mick? What’s wrong, you take something?” The brunet didn’t answer, he was gone already, passed out, leaning against Ian’s side as the only source of support. The man was obviously on some strong sedative. Ian forced himself to take a deep breath to keep from punching each and every old pedophile in this place. Lap dances were one thing, but slipping Mickey something that they knew would make him helpless?

 

What if this had happened before? What if - Ian took another deep breath. He wouldn’t go there. He couldn’t.

 

  
Fifteen minutes later, he was in a cab on his way home, Mickey’s head resting safely on his shoulder. After all but knife threatening one of the dancers, he had finally gotten an answer as to what he might be on. Apparently it was some kind of pill with a complicated name that Ian wouldn’t even try to pronounce. From what the guy had told Ian, it was obviously a heavy sedative, but virtually harmless.

 

As much worse as that part could have been, it didn't erase the past six months. It didn’t change all the terrible things that Mickey had undoubtedly been through. Because of Ian.

 

But whatever it was, however it was - Ian knew that he would spend the rest of his life making it all up to Mickey. This man was the love of Ian’s life, and he knew this now more than ever.


End file.
